Living Together, Forever
by crimesolvingshipper
Summary: After getting married, Rick and Kate are ready to take the next step in their relationship. Sequel to "The Big Day".
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! I plan on making this story longer, seeing as I'm trying to get myself to write almost every day this summer, so expect lots of chapters in this wonderful little Caskett journey. This is a sequel to my story "The Big Day", which followed "A Yes or No Question", but you don't have to read those two before this one, though I definitely recommend it :) Please leave me reviews to let me know what you think, and message me if you have any story requests! -Alyssa_

She hasn't decided how to tell him.

There are hundreds of possibilities, but she doesn't know which one is the right one. And it has to be _just right_ when it comes to him. She wants to make sure it's a good thing, for both of them, and has spent the past hour going back and forth in her head over the numerous possibilities of how to break the news.

They've been married for almost six months now. Their honeymoon lasted a week, which was spent lavishly on the coast of Southern France, drinking fine wine and exploring the culture, as well as taking pictures of him holding baguettes in front of various places around where they were staying. "It proves to the world I'm actually in France," he told her. "A baguette adds to the realism."

She laughs at the memory as she continues to cut up vegetables on the counter in the kitchen, preparing a fine home-cooked meal of fresh pasta for when he comes home from his meeting with the publicist.

She was told the "married life" would change her relationship, that the honeymoon period doesn't last, and that her and her husband were bound to argue more, with less of an escape. However, getting married hasn't really changed anything for them, besides the fact that they are now "officially" a couple in legal eyes. They spent four years doing an insane dance that cumulated in a two-year relationship and a 6-month engagement, before they officially tied the knot. Seven years of love and pain, of excitement and terror, of every possible emotion. They've seen each other's vulnerable sides, their weaknesses, what makes them tick. Maybe that's why being married hasn't changed anything for them: they have already gone through the intense highs and lows of a relationship that they now know how to make it work. Moreover, it was almost their seven-year anniversary of having entered each other's lives. Merely weeks until it comes.

And does she have a present for him.

She hears the *click* of the front door as it is unlocks, and suddenly panics, looking at the clock: 5:30pm. He was home an entire half hour early, and she hadn't figured out how to tell him yet. The knob turns and the door opens, and he enters the loft, laptop case strung across his shoulder, and smile on his face when he looks up and sees her in the kitchen. "Are we dining in tonight, my lovely, domestic wife?"

She quickly hides the panic away and puts a smile on her face, letting the happiness of seeing her husband after a long day overpower the sense of fear. "As a matter-of-fact, we are," she replies. He drops his laptop case on the couch and head over to the island. "I'm making pasta, seeing as you had leftover sauce in the fridge that's bound to go bad sometime soon. Figured I might toss in some vegetables this time though."

He leans on the counter across from her, contorting his face into disgust. "Vegetables? Isn't making me eat salad with it enough healthy, green stuff for one meal?"

She laughs at his childish retort, and focuses on cutting the last red pepper into tiny bits. "Well, Castle, someone's got to make sure you're eating right. And I'm pretty sure I signed up for that job," she says as she raises her left hand to wiggling her ringed finger in front of him.

He takes hold of her hand before she can drop it, and brings it to his lips for a light, quick kiss. "That you did, my fair maiden. That you did."

She smiles again and takes back her hand to put the peppers into his special tomato sauce, stirs it a little, and puts down the wooden spoon on the counter, glancing at the time as she does. "Okay, this has got another five minutes on it before I should start the pasta."

"Oh, I can think of a lot of things we could do in five minutes…", he smirks devilishly in her direction.

"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh," he says surprised. "Well, we can do that too. The couch?"

She makes her way out of the kitchen and he pulls her by the waist toward him as she beings to walk past. He wraps his arms around her, and she answers by moving her hands to drape around his neck. He pulls her in for a gentle kiss. They both pull back, foreheads resting against each other. "I missed you today," he tells her.

"I gotta say, the precinct _was _a lot quieter without you there."

"Hey!" he answers, as she giggles and leads them towards the couch. He sits so she can rest her head on his shoulder, but she takes a cushion all for herself, folding her legs up so she can face him head-on.

"So," he asks, "what would you like to talk about?"

How does she start? She wants her clarifications out of the way, her doubts gone so she's left with reassurance, so she can tell him without too many worries in her mind. This isn't a time for dancing around the subject; she has to go for it directly.

"We haven't really talked about having kids."

His face is clearly surprised, a topic of discussion he wasn't expecting so out of the blue. He quickly shuts his jaw from the "o" his lips formed, and he clears his throat before speaking.

"No," he answers, "I guess we haven't."

"I mean," she starts, "you've mentioned it, sort of. Side comments here and there, but we haven't sat down and discussed it. We've been married for almost 6-months now, and seeing how everything has still managed to go smoothly, I think it's time to talk."

He pauses for a moment, looking at her unreadable face. "I agree."

"Good," she says, a bit more relaxed that he's willing to discuss. "So."

"So."

"Do you want more kids, Rick?"

He looks at her once more, a seemingly pained expression in his eyes. "Well…that's a complicated question."

"What?" she exclaims. She doesn't understand. A "yes" or a "no" are usually the only two options. But with Castle, of course, it has to be more than that.

"It depends," he starts. "On you."

"Me?" She looks at him, still confused at his earlier reply.

"Yes, Kate. You." She retains her muddled appearance, so he continues. "In all honestly, I would love more kids. At least one more, maybe two. I miss having a little munchkin running around the loft, and with Alexis off in college, it just feels too empty. I feel like I don't get to be a dad that often anymore. And I miss it. And I think you'd make a great mom. You'd do everything to make sure the little rascal is safe and happy. You'd flourish. And I think you'd love it." He pauses and looks down, playing with his hands. "But ultimately, it's your decision. I don't want to pressure you into something you don't want, Kate. I know you love your job, love going to the precinct every day, and I love that look of peace you have when you've closed a case. It's who you are. And I don't want to take that away from you."

He looks into her eyes, deeply, trying to show her that he's being serious. That he means every word he is saying. That he wants her to be happy, with or without a child, because if she's happy with her life, he will be too.

She looks back at him, seeing that he's being honest and open. That what she wants is more important to him than anything else. That he wants her to be happy. And she knows what'll do just that. She smiles as she continues to look into his shining blue eyes.

"I want a kid, too, Castle."

He blinks, and then blinks again, as if what she said were something in a dream. A smile grows across his face, one of pure happiness, because she wants the same thing he does, and it'll make her happy. "Really?" he asks, still unsure of what he's just heard her say.

"Really."

"Well, then," he starts, "I for one am all for getting started on that," and he grabs her hand and stands, beginning to pull her towards the bedroom.

"Well," she stops him, pulling his hand back so he's right in front of her. "That won't really be necessary."

He stands there in a state of confusion. What is she saying? His face scrunches as he tries to dissect her statement.

She laughs as his oblivious look. "Geez, for a writer you really don't know your way around words." She looks up at him, and pulls him onto the couch beside her, looking into his eyes. He still hasn't figured out her phrase, and she rolls her eyes at the ridiculousness that is this man. But this is it. The big moment. She lets out a sigh, takes hold of both his hands, and looks him in the eyes.

"Rick, I'm pregnant."

His jaw drops, but quickly rights itself. He processes what she's just said, the wheels grinding in his head at a hundred miles per hour.

"You-you're...pregnant?"

She smiles and nods, hoping that this is still what he wants. Hoping that even though it wasn't planned, that it came out of nowhere, that it is something good and happy that they should celebrate.

It all begins to hit him at once. Their conversation topic making sense; why she was so hesitant when talking, looking worried he'd say no. Why she's sitting across from him with a smile on her face, one that is clearly worried he doesn't want an unplanned child.

His mouth slowly grows into a wide grin, and he grips her hands tighter.

"You're pregnant. We-we're having a kid. Kate: you're _pregnant_!"

His smile grows and he takes her shoulders in his hands, looking happier than she's ever seen him. A weight she did not know she was bearing is suddenly lifted off her shoulders; she now knows that yes, this is good. This is something positive that's happening.

She laughs as his hands continue to gently smooth her, from her arms, to her hair, to her cheeks. She holds them there, glowing with joy at his excitement, making her even happier about the big step in their relationship.

He pulls her face to his for a long, gentle kiss. One full of love and happiness, similar to the one the shared on their wedding day. He pulls back and looks at her, searching her face for the same joy he's feeling, and upon finding it grins even wider so his eyes begin to crinkle.

"I love you, Kate."

"I love you too, Rick."

They sit there for a moment, and during their loving moment, reality slowly begins to seep back in.

She completely forgot about dinner.

"Oh my gosh," she exclaims. "The sauce!"

She motions to jump up and head for the kitchen, but he holds onto her hand and slowly pulls her back to the couch. "Nu-uh. No way. Let me worry about dinner. You are sitting on the couch and waiting patiently for it to be done."

She sighs at his absurd orders, but the grin remains on her face. "I'm not useless yet, Castle. I'm pretty sure I can stir some noodles and tomato sauce."

"Well, I'm not taking any chances. You are sitting right there until I say that dinner is ready. And that's a fact."

He looks at her once more, and then pulls her close to him, but not close enough to squeeze her stomach in between them. She answers by wrapping her arms around his neck, and tucking her face into the curve of his neck.

"Happy anniversary," she whispers.

He quickly pulls back and looks at her in a state of shock. "Wait, our anniversary isn't for another, like three weeks. I know this. It's not…right?"

She giggles at his panicked look and slaps him on the shoulder. "Off to the kitchen, my domestic husband. You've got some pasta to cook."

He looks at her for a moment longer before kissing her forehead and unfolding himself from her. He stands and looks down, one hand still holding onto hers. "Thank you, Kate. This is the best present I've gotten in a very long time."

His look lingers, but he soon moves to the kitchen. She stays in her spot, a goofy smile still on her face, as he goes around the counter and starts stirring the sauce. _He's happy_, she thinks. She hasn't seen him that overjoyed since she said yes to him on one knee. Since their "I do's" at their wedding. It was a look, she liked to think, solely reserved for her. And even though she was worried about the time to come, and was she _worried_, there was one thing that kept her going. One thought that makes it all worthwhile.

That she is happy, too.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you guys so much for the feedback and support! As promised, here's chapter 2 on day 2. I'm gonna try to keep this going each day, and if I ever get behind, I'll make up for it, I promise! Continue to leave reviews so I can hear what you all think, and thanks again!- Alyssa_

She wanted to immediately call family and friends to tell them the good news, which she had held back to relay to her husband first, but he insisted that it wouldn't do. Instead, he offered the opinion of a grand dinner on Saturday night, all their loved ones at the loft, and they could announce the news to everyone at once.

These big family/friend dinners have only been reserved for big celebrations and announcements: their engagement, the Irishman and his wife announcing their expectation of a little one, and the celebration of the precinct team working together for ten years. Every once in while members of the group dine with them, but having them all together indicates something bigger at hand. Would they be able to guess the news? Would they have no idea what was going on? He told her in the email that it was a "celebration of their anniversary", and they wanted to share it with the people who brought them together in the first place.

Within a day, all members replied saying they could make it, and he was thrilled, excited for what they were about to announce. She watched him as he discussed the RSVPs, talking about what everyone will say, what they'll be eating for dinner with every detail in order, the writer clearly seeping into reality. She smiled at his adrenaline-fueled rant, and watched him pace back and forth, as if this was the most important dinner of their lives.

She went to work the next few days, though she could tell he didn't like the thought of her chasing bad guys while carrying their child, but promised him that she'd leave the fieldwork to her partners, and she'd stay on desk duty for a few days to ease his concern. He stayed at home, writing the novel he was, as usual, extremely far behind on, but mostly so he wouldn't spit out the good news too early.

Saturday night came quickly. His daughter arrives first, coming early after insisting on helping prepare dinner, a curious glint in her eye that can only come from a Castle; suspicion, she decides, was the look-questioning the evening, as if there was something more than an anniversary celebration going on.

Her long-time partner arrives next, with her best friend on his arm, a sight she has grown more accustomed to seeing recently. Maybe there's more going on there than is being let on. She smiles as they each take a glass of wine and laugh at a joke her husband makes. If they're both happy, than she couldn't be more thrilled for them.

His mother arrives next, in all her dramatic glory, donning a sunhat and a scarf around her next, though the day wasn't sunny or windy. Her grand entrance into the room overshadows the following arrival of her own father, who, after all these years, I still getting used to the rambunctious acts and discussions that take place in the Castle household.

The Irishman and his wife arrive last, apologizing quickly for their tardiness due to the babysitter showing up late, and their son refusing to let his mother go.

With the whole party present, they decide it's time to feast, and they all take places around the extended dining table, her husband taking one end, and his mother taking the other. Before they began, his mother takes her glass of wine from the table and lifts it up, everyone else quickly following suit, and she speaks:

"Too the lovely couple on their almost anniversary; who, after too many years of waiting, finally got it right."

The group laughs, and a few "Here, here's!" follow, but she reaches over and takes her husband's hand, a soft smile on her face and a large grin on his. "To us," she says.

"To us."

They share a quick kiss as the rest of the table cheers, and everyone dives into the meal in front of them. As talks begin and laughter starts to fill the room, her partner, sitting beside her, gives her a questioning look.

"What, Espo? I got something on my face?"

He keeps the look, but nods his head toward her glass, filled not with wine, but only water. "No wine tonight?"

She had hoped no one would make the observation, but she knew him well enough that if anyone would say something, it would be him. "No," she answers. "Not tonight. I'm just a little tired."

"Mhmm," he replies. He doesn't look convinced by her answer, but goes back to his meal and his date for the evening.

She lets out a little breath she didn't know she was holding. Does he know? Could that one little change give away the secret? But he has stopped questioning, so she's not going to worry. It's worked for now. And soon, she won't need to make up excuses.

* * *

The feast has ended, and the conversation is starting to slow. The dinner has lasted almost two hours now, and the feeling of the room indicates that people will begin to filter out any minute. Both of them are socializing, but they can't get a moment to talk with each other and decide to make the announcement. She smiles at something his daughter says as her best friend laughs, but she quickly glances to him, a look of desperation in her eyes. He sees it for only a moment, but knows exactly what it's for. He excuses himself from a discussion with her father and makes his way across the room to where she's at. "I'm sorry ladies," he enters their little triangle, "but may I borrow my wife for a moment?"

"Don't keep her too long," her best friend orders, "I'm not done with her yet!"

The group laughs as he takes her away to an unoccupied corner of the room. The huddle closely, and converse in whispers. "Okay," he says, "should we do it now?"

She nods in approval. "It's now or never, right?"

He smiles and takes her hand, squeezing it with reassurance. She grips it tight back, the grin slowly growing on her face.

They walk over to the group, hand in hand, the news ready to burst from the tips of their tongues. They had decided since he was the wordsmith of the relationship, he would do the talking. He starts:

"Everyone, everyone! May I please direct your attention over here for a moment? Please? Thank you."

The group turns and looks at them, smiling at the pair approaching the crowd.

"Okay, thanks. So," he begins, "thank you all for coming over tonight. We know it wasn't planned too far ahead, but you all showed up anyway, and to celebrate such an important milestone with us is truly wonderful."

The group applauds, as excited to watch these two together as they were years ago.

"However," he continues, "That is not the only step we have taken. We have gone on many different adventures in this relationship, some ending better than others, and we're continuing to do so, every day. You have all been here for us on our journey so far, so as we take these next steps, we want your continued support in our lives."

They all continue to smile, but seem to look slightly confused as to where the conversation is going.

"With that said, we'd like to share with you our next big adventure. Kate?"

He looks to her, and squeezes her hand once more, just the push she needs to talk to the group of people she loves so dearly. She smiles as she speaks:

"I…am pregnant."

Breathes are taken in by the group, and suddenly squeals of joy erupt all through the loft. Her best friend waves her hands around, his mother and daughter hug each other with joy, her partners exchanging a knowing look, and the Irishman hands the other a twenty dollar bill as subtly as he can.

She looks to her father last.

He's smiling. But there's something more. She hasn't seen this look on him in a very long time. Not since before her mother died. He's...happy. Really, truly happy. It's not a smile of contentment or satisfaction, but one of pure joy. His eyes light up bright, and he crosses the room to meet her. He takes her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes for a few moments, before pulling her in for a soft, sweet hug.

"Congrats, Katie," he says quietly into her ear.

"Thanks, Dad," she answers, and holds him a little tighter. Of everyone, she cared most about his reaction. She realizes now it was silly for her to ever worry in the first place. Her father supports her, no matter what the case, and this is no different. Well, it is a little. He seems to enjoy it more than the other situations.

He pulls back from her and cups her face in his hand, then slightly pulling her down to kiss her forehead. "My girl," he says, and then pauses. "I'm so proud of you, how far you've come. Your mom would be, too."

She smiles once more and pulls him back to her, gripping onto him more than before. "Thank you, Dad. I love you."

"Back at ya, Katie. And I'm gonna love this kid, too."

"Hey," his mother calls out. "We know she's your daughter and all, but quit hogging her!"

They laugh as her and her father pull apart, the smile still on his face. His mother approaches her, arms dramatically spread out, a big grin on her face. "Oh, Katherine! Look at you! Congratulations, darling!"

She laughs as she is embraced once more, as she expects to be for a little while longer. The feeling in the room of wanting to leave has completely reversed to a feeling of not wanting to part. She glances over to her husband, who's shaking hands with her father, the both of them laughing and smiling at something her husband has just said. Her grin grows, glad that after all this time, after everything they've been through, the man she loves and her father can get along.

For a moment, she looks around at everyone. Those looking at her, those in their own conversations, and sees that they've all kept smiles on their faces. That whether they're talking to her and her husband, or chatting about the two of them on the side, they are all still happy.

She decides her husband was right. Telling her friends and family one by one may have been quicker, but nothing could beat the feeling of family she got from having them all support her new family's "big adventure" at once. The people here now are the most important people in her life, and they are all happy for her and her husband.

As his mother had stated earlier, it did take them many years before they got their relationship right. And everyone here had been a part of that. She realizes that they'll be like that for a very long time. Her three familys; one biological, one created, and one forged from camaraderie, will always be here for her.

And suddenly she's not scared. Or at least, not as much. Because she knows that no matter what happens next, they will always be there for her. And when this new family member comes into their lives, they will love them almost as much as she does. And she can't imagine anything better.

She reaches over to her husband and grabs his hand. He looks at her for a moment, smiles, and squeezes back. She can tell he sees it too. That this was right. That everyone is happy for them.

That this family is growing, and the people that matter most to them aren't going anywhere when it does.


	3. Chapter 3

She has to tell the captain.

She's gone a week so far without mentioning the pregnancy, mostly because she doesn't know quite how the captain will react. Just when she thinks she's mustered up the courage to head to her office, a call comes in and she's off to catch a criminal.

But tonight she's decided she _will_ tell the captain. No excuses. She's just finished a case, paperwork piled nice and neat on her desk, ready to turn in, and she's off the clock. It's gone on too long, and she must give notification immediately to receive maternity leave when the time comes.

She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Her head falls into her hands, and she surrounds her sight with darkness. She moves to massage her temples, draining the tension from a hard day's work, slowly making its way out of her system. Finally, she opens her eyes and pushes off her desk to stand, and begins the short walk to the office.

The door is open, so she walks directly in. The captain is at her desk, glasses on, typing away at her computer, but looks up when she sees her lead detective enter the room.

"Detective Beckett," she starts, "can I help you? I thought you finished the Transin case."

"Yes, sir, I did, the paperwork's all filled out."

"Then what are you still doing here? It's late, you're off call..."

"Sir," she interrupts, "I actually came to talk to you."

The captain gives her a questioning look, unsure of where she's going with the conversation. Her hands move away from the keyboard and to her face, where she removes her glasses and places them on her desk. "Is something wrong, Detective?"

"No, sir, um, there's nothing wrong. I just wanted to notify you that I'll be needing some time off in the near future."

"What, you and your husband going on some fancy Caribbean cruise?" She smiles as she says it, genuine about the question. She wasn't too fond of her husband at first, before they were even together, but she, as everyone else does, warmed up to him, and was even incredibly supportive of their marriage. He doesn't come to the precinct as often as he used to, mostly because his publisher's trying to get him a new deal, and he has to attend meetings that weren't there before. Maybe the distance has the captain liking him more. But she can tell that, as the captain asks the reason for her time off, she's just curious as to where their lives have taken them.

"Actually, sir…I'm pregnant."

She lets out the breath she'd been holding and looks directly at her boss. There's a quick gasp before a small smile appears on the captain's face. "It was only a matter of time. These things tend to follow marriages." She looks at her detective, the faint smile still on her face. "I'll notify Human Resources, but they'll call you in the morning to set up a meeting, hash out the details and what not." She turns her head back to her desk as she begins to pull a file off the stack resting beside her.

"Erm, thank you, sir." She turns to exit the room, and begins heading out.

"Oh, and Detective Beckett?"

She looks back to the captain, who's looking at her once again, but with a slightly bigger smile than before. "Congratulations."

She smiles at her boss, head looking down, a blush starting to rise to her cheeks. "Thank you, sir," she replies, and then heads back to her desk.

She grabs her blazer from the back of her chair, and opens the bottom draw to take out her purse. With both in hand, she heads for the elevator, taking note of the silence that has fallen over the precinct. She pushes the down button and looks around as she waits. At times it can be hectic, draining, tiring, and angering to be in this place for many hours at a time, but it's times like this, when nothing is really going on, when cases have been put to rest until morning, when the only loud noise is the copier down the hall, that she remembers how much this place is home. Just as much as the loft. How, even though it's crazy, and can drag her to her worse, it's forever a part of her life.

As the elevator dings to indicate its arrival, she grins to herself, planning on enjoying every moment here until she's forced to stay home for a while, because she knows that she'll go crazy without it.

* * *

She arrives home around eleven, expecting complete darkness and her husband tucked away in bed for the night. But when she opens the door to the loft, it's lit up just as it was when she left, and the television on, the sound barely audible.

She drops her purse and her keys on the table next to the door and looks around. "Castle?" she calls out.

"In here!" a voice calls from the den, and she follows it to find him sitting behind his desk, feet up, laptop resting on his legs as he types away. "Just one second…" he says, as he presumably finishes his thought, than looks up and smiles at her. "Okay. Chapter done." His smile turns to an inquisitive look. "You're home early."

Her eyes widened and her jaws slightly drop. "You can't be serious," she says.

"Well, yeah," he replies. "You said you weren't going to be home until late, and it's only…"he looks at his laptop, and confusion sets in. He looks to his watch, hoping that technology has failed him and it is not as late as he sees it to be. "But…I…I just sat down…"

She laughs, far too used to her husband losing track of time when he works. "This is what happens when you actually do your _job_, writer boy." She walks over to him and wraps her arms around his neck from behind, kissing his cheek. "It's late, and you have that meeting in the morning with some head honcho, right? You should get some sleep."

He takes down his feet and puts his laptop on the desk, turning his chair around to face her and pulls her closer, her arms stilled draped around him. "Hey, if one of us needs the sleep, it's definitely you. You're working crazy hours, running on _decaf _nonetheless, and that can't be healthy. For either of you." He nods his head towards her stomach. "I should be the one telling _you_ to go to bed."

She smiles and pulls her legs up onto his lap, and he adjusts by wrapping his arms around her back. She moves a hand to play with his hair, smoothing it down in places it's started to stick up, most likely from his hands running through it when he was writing.

"Look at you," she coos, "getting all protective. You know, it's actually kind of hot."

He looks at her in surprise. "It is?"

"Mhmm," she replies. "'Papa Bear' is a really good look on you." Her smile turns seductive as she twirls his hair in her hands.

"Actually," he corrects, "the mother bear is far more protective of the family than the father. He usually doesn't stick around."

Her smile quickly turns to a frown, eyebrows glaring downward into her "are you kidding me" look, reserved only for the man in front of her.

She sighs and begins to get up, but he still holds on. "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm hungry, so I'm making myself a sandwich. I haven't eaten in hours."

He looks confused by her claim. "Bu-wha- I thought we were…"

"Nope. Not anymore. You ruined that one all on your own, bud." She pulls back from his grip and heads to the kitchen.

"You know," he argues, "studies have shown that sex during pregnancy can actually be beneficial to all parties."

"Castle, I've been pregnant for only a little over month. I'm pretty sure it won't have any-"

She stops talking as a sickening feeling takes over. She suddenly feels nauseous, _very _nauseous, and heads for the bathroom at a quickened pace.

"Kate?" she hears her husband call, concern clear in his voice. But she's too focused on making it to the toilet before the inevitable occurs.

She reaches it just in time and bends over, throwing up into the clean porcelain bowl.

She feels a pair of hands pull back her hair and holding it in a ponytail, and then one move to her back, slowly rubbing between her shoulder blades.

She's made her way onto her knees, and grips the bowl with both hands, but it passes almost as quickly as it arrived. She leans back from the toilet and breaths, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe across her mouth.

"You okay?" her husband asks. She looks up at him, worry lining his eyes.

"Yeah, I think I'm good."

She flushes the toilet and he pulls her up to him, instantly embracing her. She grabs onto him and hides her face in his chest, breathing in his scent that calms her down. He kisses the top of her forehead and sighs. "So, it begins."

She snorts, not sure if he's trying to be funny or not, but finds the statement amusing. Maybe it's because it's late at night, and she's exhausted. Maybe it's because of hormones. She pulls back and looks at him, smiling sleepily as he pushes her hair back from where it fell onto her face. "Thank you for holding my hair back."

He grins at her comment. "Always."

He leans down to kiss her, but she quickly puts a finger to his lips. "I just puked in the toilet. You really want to kiss this mouth?"

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and steps back to let her clean up. "You still want that sandwich?"

She shakes her head. "No, definitely not. I can't even talk about food right now."

"Alrighty, then. I have, like, five more paragraphs to write on this chapter, and then I'll be done for the night, I swear."

"Go, finish your silly chapter. I'm gonna get ready for bed and hit the sack."

He steps towards her once more, grabbing her shoulders as he leans over to kiss her forehead, then looks back at her. "You sure you're alright?"

She gives him a reassuring smile. "Yes, I'm fine. I'll have to get used to it for a while, though."

"Well don't worry," he starts as he begins to leave, "I'll always be here to hold your hair!"

Her smile stays on as he heads into the den, glad to have a husband who can make every situation more bearable, even if it is with a joke. She places a hand on her stomach and looks down, thinking of what it'll be like when the new addition to their family arrives. He'll probably act even sillier, most likely becoming fluent in baby talk and Sesame Street lingo, as a start.

She knows it's not going to be easy getting there. It'll be painful, and tiring, and long. But the most important thing she knows, what matters more than anything else, is one thing only:

It's completely worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

The weeks continued on, and she learned quickly how carrying a child can affect a person's life. Though she continued her normal job for a while, three months into her pregnancy she stopped doing field work, unless it was to attend a crime scene. But even then, the smell of the bodies started getting to her, and she threw up twice at scenes before deciding to give those a rest, too. She's started doing more deskwork, letting her partners take the leads on the cases, and she was the one to research and check security videos and everything else that her partners have always done. Talking to suspects, too, has begun to lessen in numbers, whether it's because she began to lash out more at them in an unprofessional manor, or she was just too tired to get mad.

Her husband called her every day at work to make sure she was doing alright. Sometimes, if she was in an angry mood, she would completely blow him off. Other times she spent almost twenty minutes talking to him, and had to force herself to hang up and keep working, knowing she'd see him that night.

She started showing early on. Though no one directly came up to ask, the precinct knew what was going on. She got smiles from officers she'd never met, and even HR was being kind. It was like being pregnant gave you a pass; it was an excuse to get treated nicely by strangers.

Tonight she sits at her desk after a long day's work. They caught a break in their case, where a robbery gone bad leaving a 23-year-old cashier dead, and her partners were in interrogation, trying to get something out of the suspect's girlfriend.

She piles up the files she's been digging through all afternoon: phone records, emails, customer lists from a local gun store. She pushes them to the side of her desk, leaving a wide open spot in the middle. She considers putting her head down and closing her eyes-just for a few minutes-when her partners bust out of interrogation, smiles plastered on their faces.

"We got her to talk," her partner says.

"And? Anything?" she replies.

"More than just anything," the Irishman starts, than looks to the notepad in his hand. "She said Eddie's out of the city, he left a day or two ago, but he's not gone for good. He left his guitar at a buddy's house in Queens, and he wants to pick it up. Tomorrow."

"You got an address for the house?" she asks.

"Yup. And a time. He bought a ticket with her credit card of a train out of Grand Central tomorrow evening, but his girlfriend said he's going to his friend's house around 1. It's when they always meet."

"We're getting a team ready for tomorrow," her partner continues, "one for each spot, in case we don't catch him in Queens. But we've done all we can for tonight." He looks at her, slightly relaxing his eyes as he speaks. "That means you're done for the day. You can head home, detective."

"Really?" she questions. "There's nothing else you need done? I'm doing fine guys, I can stay a few more hours. It's not like I've been running around all day, I've been sitting here. I'm not totally useless."

"Kate, we're good," her partner assures her.

"If we need any more help," the Irishman offers, "we'll give you a call, okay?"

She sighs, knowing they'll be stuck here for hours, while she's relaxing at home.

"Hey," her partner says, "lead detective's orders. No disobeying."

"Yeah," his partner says as they start to walk away, "thanks for giving that to him. His ego's never going down."

She laughs as they leave, watching them disappear behind a wall. She looks at her watch, and sees that it's around time for dinner. She leans sideways to grab her purse from its drawer, careful not to squish the bump that is continuing to grow on her stomach, and once it's retrieved picks up her phone.

Her husband answers on the second ring, like he's waiting at her beck and call. "Another phone call? This is either very good or very bad."

She smiles. "It's the former actually," she tells him. "The boys let me off early today. I'm heading home now."

"Home in time for the normal dinner hours? Oh boy! We must feast like knights."

"You know Castle," she says as she heads to the elevator, "now that you mention it, you wouldn't look too bad in plated armor."

"I'll add that to my list of 'Things to purchase at the Renaissance Fair.' Got an ETA?"

"Half an hour, hopefully," she says as she presses the down button.

"Perfect. Prepare your taste buds for the ultimate meal!"

She laughs as she hangs up the phone, too entertained by her husband's enjoyment to tell him she probably won't eat whatever he cooks. It's not that it won't taste good, she's sure it's probably excellent, but the pregnancy has screwed up her eating habits immensely. She gets in the elevator as it arrives and heads to the garage, glad that the boys let her off a little early today. It'll be nice to be home.

* * *

She finds him setting the table in a neat and orderly manner, and steam coming out of the pot on the stove. He looks up when she walks in and smiles. "Excellent timing. Another couple of minutes and it'll be ready!"

He walks over to her and takes her purse before she even has the chance to reach the table and put it down. He puts it down, then lightly wraps his arms around her, careful not to squeeze the life growing in front of him. She returns the gesture and leans forward for a quick kiss. "Hey there, cutie," he says her, happy to see her healthy and well after a day spent away from home.

She laughs at his compliment. "Hiya, handsome."

They stand there, arm in arm, looking at each other for a moment. He suddenly moves his hands around her to rest on her stomach, the bulge growing bigger every day. "And hello to you my extremely intelligent and gorgeous unborn child." He leans down and kisses it, her hands leaving his neck to rest onto of his. He does this almost every day, and though at first it was kind of annoying, she's gotten used to his touch, and looks forward to when he does it. It's comforting to her, seeing her husband care so much about this child. He's already been through the process with Alexis, so she wonders everyday how much more he actually knows about all of this than her. She's read some books and talked with doctors and friends, but she still doesn't feel like she's doing it right. Not until she sees her husband, holding her stomach and talking to the child growing inside of her. Most of her fear washes away in these moments, because she's reminded she's not doing it all alone.

"So," she speaks, ending the silence, "what's for dinner?"

"Oh nothing to extravagant. Just some eggplant parmesan with some steamed veggies and mashed potatoes."

She looks at him surprised. "You made all of that in half an hour?"

A satisfied look appears on his face. "What can I say, I'm amazing."

He takes her hand and they walk into the kitchen. He heads to the fridge and she stops to look at the stove. The eggplant is cooking, and up close the smell suddenly hits her. Her nose wrinkles and she looks at it again, and is overcome with disgust of the texture and taste of eggplant.

He comes back over to her and smiles. She takes his arm to hold him back from heading to the table. "Castle, thank you so much for cooking dinner. It was really sweet of you to do that on such short notice."

"Well, feeding my pregnant wife _does _seem like something that should take priority in my life." He sees her eyes flit down and to the side, and she slightly bites her lip. His smile fades and becomes an exasperated sigh. "But you just smelled the eggplant and hate it because of your silly messed-up taste buds."

She takes both his hands in hers. "I'm sorry. It looks great, really, but…"

"…you need to eat something else." He leans over and turns the fires on the stove off. "Well, I tried. You're up. What would you like?"

She turns around and heads for the fridge, opening both doors and the freezer, deciding on her next meal. She suddenly sees the two things she wants and pulls them out, turning around to show him with a smile on her face.

He looks terribly confused. "That's your dinner? What sounds delicious? Frozen waffles and pickles?"

"Yes. Exactly that."

He sighs once more and takes them from her hands. "Go sit on the couch, I'll call you over when it's ready."

She kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks, babe." Heading over to the couch, she calls out, "Oh, and can you grab the mustard, too?"

"Whatever you say, crazy pregnant lady."

She plops herself on the couch and grabs the latest fashion magazine sitting on the table. Though Alexis is only there during the summer, if she's home at all, she never cancelled the subscription to the hind-end seller. Considering her husband likes to spoil her with things as often as possible, he leaves the magazines on the table in hopes she finds something she wants to buy. She sits there now, flipping through the pages and the gorgeous outfits, when she notices a story next to one of the models. She starts reading it, but immediately regrets doing so. The model talks about her hard upbringing; how her mother was always working and never around, her father practically non-existent in her life, and how she had to bring up her siblings on her own. The story was heartbreaking, and suddenly she was softly crying.

"Alright," her husband says as he approaches the couch, "your ridiculous idea of dinner is-"

He sees her crying and immediately sits next to her and pulls her into his arms. "Kate, hey, what's wrong."

She looks up at him through her tears. "What if I'm a horrible mother?"

He look softens even further. "Kate, no. You're going to be a great mother, I promise."

"How do you know?" she continues. "I mean, my work has been my life, and when I'm not working I'm here, still probably talking about work, and you come to work with me, and what if I never see them? What if they grow up thinking I'm terrible because I'm gone all the time? I mean, I should stop working then, right? At least until they know I'm not a bad mother-"

He pulls away from her and holds her arms in his hands. "Kate," he says, and she looks down, ashamed of a failure at motherhood to come. "Kate, look at me." She looks up, tears flowing from her eyes, concern plastered throughout her face. He knows this reaction has to do with her hormones, but he also knows that the feeling she's having has to stem from a little piece of truth buried inside that she doesn't want the world to see. "You are going to be a great mom."

She tries to interrupt, but he cuts her off. "No, let me finish. I have met thousands of women in my life, maybe even more. And many of them have been mothers. None of them were as smart as you, or as strong, or as passionate about life as you. And somehow, they managed to pull the whole motherhood thing off. Take my own mother, for example. I grew up in an unconventional way, due to her line of work, and I managed to turn out good enough for you to pick me. If that's possible, anything is. But I know for a fact that you…you are extraordinary. And you will be an incredible mother to this kid."

Her tears have stopped and she smiles, coming back from her emotional high because he reeled her in, she folds herself back into his arms and holds him tight. "Thank you. That helped."

He kisses her on the top of her head. "It's true." He smooths her hair with his hand as he speaks again. "You still want your dinner?"

She ponders her earlier chosen combination and shivers in disgust. "I don't think so. What was I thinking?"

He sighs once more. "Okay, well, I'm down to the last option before I give up entirely: pizza?"

She sits up and looks at him, a grin across her face. "With spinach and extra cheese?"

"Sounds good. Let's just hope you don't change your mind before it gets here."

"Hey," she rebuts, "no promises from the crazy pregnant lady."


	5. Chapter 5

_~~~I'm really, really sorry I haven't updated this in forever. Things got a little confusing this summer, I got caught up in other shows, and I've been taking a screenwriting course, which has been sucking up my creativity. I'm hoping to do more with this story, but I'd love to get your guy's reactions as to whether or not it should continue on. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think! And thanks for being so patient :) -Alyssa~~~_

It is time.

The baby is due in four days. Everyone is on high alert, watching her, making sure she doesn't burst into labor alone. Her midsection has grown large, making her frame seem smaller and unable to bear the weight much longer. She was put on bed rest a few weeks ago, but has attempted to get out of the house as often as she can, making up countless excuses, and getting away with it because the pregnant her can be a little more scary than the normal her.

She's lying on the couch, reading a magazine that is perched against her stomach. His mother sits on the chair nearby watching something on television, and he and his daughter are in the kitchen, talking about her time away at school.

Suddenly, she sits up, the urge to pee arriving for the umpteenth time that day. They all watch as she rises off the couch and waddles to the bathroom, concern on their faces that she can't see behind her. He sighs. "Every time she moves I think it's gonna happen. This is torture."

His mother shifts her gaze to him. "Don't worry darling, everything will be alright. It happens when it happens, and we go from there."

"Gram's right Dad," his daughter chimes in. "Just, take a breath, relax. Enjoy the silence before the ravage noise of a crying baby keeps you up all night."

He smiles at her. "Well, if it's anything like you, I won't have to worry about that too much."

She scoffs at him as she walks towards the stairs. "Please father, I can never be repeated. I am much too unique."

He laughs at her comment, and returns to the pen and abandoned crossword puzzle on the counter. But before he can begin, his wife walks back into the room, a look of sheer horror on her face. He drops the pen and rushes quickly to her side. "Kate," he pleads, "Kate what's wrong?"

"I-I…"she stammers, "I think my water just broke."

The room stills for a moment, as everyone is silent, taking in the news.

"Ar-are you sure?" he replies.

"Well," she answers, "I sure as hell wasn't peeing."

They all pause for another moment.

Then he knows it's starting.

"All right people, it's go time!"

* * *

They arrive at the hospital rather quickly. He ignored every driving law he possibly could while still being safe on the roads to get her here in one piece. His family moves ahead fast, clearing the way so he can hold onto her while she slowly makes her way inside.

"Can someone help us?" he shouts out. "My wife is in labor!"

A nurse appears with a wheelchair and orders her into it, which she takes with a sigh of relief, glad to sit after the long walk from the emergency room bay. As they wheel her down the hall, something clicks in her head. "Castle-" she turns to her husband. "Castle, hand me my phone."

"Honey, you are in labor, there's no reason you-"

"I need to call my dad," she interrupts.

He nods and hands her the phone. She dials and listens to the ringing, hoping he'll pick up. When the call goes to voicemail, she grunts in disappointment. "Hey dad," she starts. "So, I really hope you get this message soon, because I'm going into labor and I won't get to call you again. Yeah. I'm at the hospital, about to have this baby. Call Martha when you get this. I'll probably be busy. Love you!"

He takes the phone from her, and she grips his wrist tight as she continues to look straight ahead while being pushed by the nurse. He smiles slightly, takes the phone with his other hand, and shifts his wrist to intertwine their fingers as they move.

She's taken to a room, a private suite from the look of it, and another nurse arrives to help her onto the bed. His daughter had told the nurses all the medical information they needed on the way to the room, which she memorized ages ago, so they could get the right doctor and the right set-up for her. The nurse informs them that the doctor will be arriving shortly to see how far along she is, and make sure she is doing alright, then leaves the family to be.

"Now that everyone is settled," his mother says, "I think it's time to make a few more calls. Your friends should know you're here." She turns to her granddaughter. "Alexis, darling, I could use your help."

"Sure, Gram," she replies, and smiles at her father and his wife as they leave the room.

Silence falls, and her hard breathing is all that can be heard.

Worry lines start to form on her face. "Something is wrong."

"Kate, nothing is wrong. It's going to be fine," he reassures her, rubbing his hand across her forehead.

"No…I-I haven't had any contractions yet," she becomes anxious. "If I'm going into labor, shouldn't I have had them by now? What's wrong? I-"

"Kate." She continues to thrash around in panic. "Kate, look at me."

She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

"You are fine. The baby is fine. You shouldn't worry. The doctor will be in soon, and she'll tell us everything, alright? But there is nothing wrong. I promise." He moves to kiss her forehead.

She smiles, gripping his hand tighter with reassurance, and takes a breath. "Okay. Yes. You're right. I'm just being-"

She pauses. Her face scrunches up with confusion, and then turns into a smile.

"What is it? Kate?"

"It's a contraction. I'm having a contraction!" Suddenly her smile fades, and is replaced with a face slightly more pained. "I'm having a contraction."

She puts a hand to her stomach and sits up a little bit, squeezing his hand tighter, hoping for the pain to pass as quickly as possible. He smooths her hair as he holds her, murmuring "it's okay, it's okay" over and over as she combats the occurrence.

It passes, and she lies back down, breathing loudly. "And it only gets worse?" she looks over at him, hoping his experience can give her answers in this field.

He frowns. He leans down and slowly kisses her on the lips. When he pulls back, he looks deep into her eyes. "From what I know, yes." She sighs and leans her head back against the pillow. He moves her chin so she's looking in his eyes once more. "But I am not going _anywhere_."

She smiles slightly and moves a hand to cup his face. "Yeah, you don't really have a choice on that one."

"Clearly, I don't have a choice."

* * *

She wakes up a little weary. It takes her eyes a moment to adjust, but soon she scans the room, her memory slowly fading back into her mind. He's sitting on the chair next to her bed, holding her hand in both of his, his head gently resting on the blanket below. She looks down in confusion. "Castle?" she whispers. No answer. "Rick? Wake up."

He moves slightly, adjusting to the sound of her voice. Suddenly, he opens his eyes and sees her, relief washing over him. "Kate, oh god Kate, you're awake. You're awake." He stands and leans over her, taking her in his arms, gripping her tight.

"Castle, I'm fine." She lightly shoves him off. "But…something happened. I don't remember-"

_"Okay Kate, we're gonna need you to push again, alright?" the doctor said. She was practically ripping his arm off squeezing his hand, but she pushed again, always one taking their orders. She screamed in pain, the meds she was given practically ineffective at this point. He kept petting back her hair and bracing himself through her tight grip. Again and again she pushed, and it felt like a painful routine she would never get out of._

_"Okay, Kate we just need one more. One more big one, and you'll be through, okay?"_

_She nodded and looked up at him. "One more?" she asked, panting. _

_His look changed to the smile he reserves only for her. "One more."_

_So she gave it all she had, pushed as hard as she could, screaming and gripping his hand through the pain. _

_She heard a baby cry._

_Then she spiraled into darkness._

He sighed, a defeated look overcoming him. "There were…complications. You wouldn't stop bleeding. Oh god Kate, I thought-" he paused. "But you're okay. They fixed it, and you're okay."

She gave him a weary smile.

Abruptly, she looks anxious and sits up with a start.

"Castle, the baby. Where's our baby?"

He gently reaches over to push her back down. "Shhh, Kate it's alright. He's doing great. The doctor says he is in the best of health."

She looks up at him, the anxiety fading to wonder. "He?" she asks timidly. "It's a boy?"

He grins wide, still holding onto her hand. "A bouncing, bubbly, beautiful baby boy."

She laughs outright, squeezing his hand. "We have a son," she says, a smile growing on her face.

"We have a son," he repeats.

"Can we see him?"

He nods. "I'll let the nurse know we're ready." He walks to the door, but stops midway. "Would you mind some other visitors while we wait? I'm sure they want to say hello."

Her grin widens. "That would be fantastic."

When he returns, everyone is there with him. His family, her partners, her best friend; but most importantly, her father. He tells her he got the message and came as soon as he could. They all surround her, faces aglow with joy and happiness, for both her health and the baby's.

"You know," her partner begins, "a baby is a lot of work. I definitely understand letting me stay lead detective, even after you come back, so you can, you know, have more time to-"

"_Please_ let me be lead detective," the Irishman interjects. "I can't take his macho man ego getting any bigger."

They laugh at the inquiry, and continue to chat for a short while. Then, there is a knock on the door.

"Mr. Castle?" a nurse says. "We're ready when you are."

He nods and turns to everybody. "Alright folks, let's give the new momma some space and a little time alone with her son."

They all quickly say their goodbyes, promising to return later to see the new member of their little family. As they leave, she looks over to him. "You're staying though, right?"

He smiles and takes her hand, kissing the back of it. "You couldn't kick me out if you tried."

He turns and looks to the nurse. "Okay. Let's see our son."

The nurse nods and leaves for a moment, returning with a small, plastic bassinette with a little body bundle up inside, pulling it alongside the bed.

She looks into the bundle, searching for her son, but the angle she's at doesn't have a good view. She looks up at the nurse. "Can I hold him?"

The nurse smiles. "Of course." She leans down, scooping up the bundle, hands him to her, and steps back.

Her smile has never been so wide.

He's perfect. His smooth skin, his little eyes that are closed as he sleeps, his tiny little fingers sticking out from under the wrap. Any doubts she had, anything that made her think this whole motherhood ordeal could be a bad idea, flew out the window. This was right. This was how everything should be.

Suddenly, his little nose wrinkles, and his mouth opens wide in a yawn. She laughs out an "aw" and rocks him back and forth, relishing the adorable moment. "Hi, there," she whispers. Then his eyes flutter open, and her jaw slightly drops.

"His eyes," she says, looking up at her husband, and then looking back to her son. "He has your eyes."

He leans forward and looks at his son, smiling. "Of course he does! Castle's gotta have those baby blues. How do you think we get so charming? You're gonna be a charmer, aren't you? Yes you are!" He nudges his son a little with his finger, and his son latches onto it with both his hands, while staring up at her.

"Look at that," he says. "He already knows who his parents are. He's got your brains. Gosh, he's gonna be handsome _and _smart. We have a ladies man on our hands, Kate."

She laughs, looking up at him once more. "Well, we have lots of time to figure that out, don't we?"

He looks back at her, and smiles as he cups her faces, kissing her tenderly on the lips for a few moments. He pulls back and rests his forehead on hers, looking over to their son.

"Yes," he answers. "We have all the time in the world."


	6. Chapter 6

**_~~~I'm really bad at updating this, I'm sorry. I was on vacation, and I was putting off naming their kid, mostly because I didn't want to mess it up. So here's a short chapter to carry over until I have more time on my hands. I go back to school at the end of this week, and once I get my routine down, I should have time to write. _**

**_Again, please let me know what you think in the reviews, and thank you for your continued support!_**

**_-Alyssa~~~_**

The night is quiet, save the normal noises of late night city goers. They lay in bed fast asleep facing opposite directions, him with his legs splayed out at the bottom, her gripping the pillow between her hands. They lay unmoving, taking in the silence, regaining energy they continually lose throughout the day.

Suddenly, a soft cry is heard over the baby monitor on the night stand.

The parents slowly awake, and she groans. "It's your turn."

"No," he muffles, face turning into the pillow. "It's yours."

"I did it last time."

"He likes you more."

"It's because I'm better."

He shifts, half sitting up and turning to face her. "Better? I wouldn't say better. I'd say, you have the advantage." He glances down to her chest. "You have the food."

"Oh look," she says without moving. "You're up. Might as well stop the noise while you're at it."

He groans and rolls his eyes, but reluctantly throws the covers back, getting out of bed and padding across the room.

He makes his way through the loft and up the stairs, and opens the first shut door on the right. The nightlight shines around the room, and a little bundle shifts in the crib in front of him, soft crying coming from within.

He walks over and looks down at his infant son, who squirms on his back. "Alright little man, come here." He reaches down and scoops his son up in his arms, lightly swaying him back and forth.

The crying lessens. His son looks up at him, his blue eyes wide with recognition.

"Was that so hard?" He asks him, moving a finger to the baby's hand, which instantly latches on. "I love you kid, I really do. And so does mommy. But crying isn't going to make a difference when you're a 35 year old rocket scientist running for president. So, how about we try this whole less-crying thing, okay?"

His son's eyes are still wide, and the crying has completely stopped.

"Huh, taking orders from your old man already. I like it." He laughs and moves to the rocking chair in the corner of the room, sitting carefully and rocking.

"Your sister Alexis never really cried. We thought something was wrong with her, she was so quite." He smiles down at his son. "But I guess you inherited your mom's vocal abilities, huh?"

The baby yawns, his eyes drooping more and more with each passing second.

"Or your father's attention-hogging persona."

He looks up as she enters the room, a hint of a smile on her face, and she walks towards them. "But I guess that'll help him when he's running the country and sending spaceships to other planets."

"It's my turn; you didn't have to get up."

She looks down at her son who is now almost fully asleep, and rubs a few fingers on his tiny, thin-haired head. "Yeah, well, the monitor was still on. And I thought I'd come up before you tried to instill any sort of writer wisdom onto his life."

"Hey," he defends, "if he wants to be a writer just like his dad, I'm not gonna hold him back."

She giggles lightly and removes her hand from the baby's head. "I think he's asleep. You can put him back in now."

He looks down at the bundle in his arms, his eyes shining. "Nah, not yet. He's too cute to let go of. Got the best genetics a kid could have."

He looks up at her, a smile appearing on her face. She rolls her eyes and turns, retrieving a folding chair from the corner of the room, and dragging it next to the boys.

She looks at him for a moment, then down to her son. "He is pretty cute."

"We did a very good job." He looks up at her with a slightly hesitant grin. "We should mass produce these things."

She turns to him, an annoyed look appearing saved only for him. "Castle," she whispers so as not to wake the baby, "I know you've done the whole parenting thing before, but this is my first time. He's only three months old. It's been exhausting. I can barely handle one kid, let alone more. Can we at least wait 'til he's a little older before thinking about another? "

Castle sighs, but nods his head. "Alright," he replies looking back at their son, "but you know what they say: Practice makes perfect."

She rolls her eyes once more. "Okay, time to go back to bed. Let's put him down."

He laughs quietly, but carefully rises nonetheless, and walks back over to the crib where she stands waiting. He gently places their son down, positioning the blanket lightly around him.

They stay in place, looking down at their son, smiles playing on their lips. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her too him, kissing her hair lightly.

"Look at us," he says. "We've got a kid, we've got a home, we've got each other. We're so…normal."

"I wouldn't call us _normal_," she replies.

"Okay, maybe not normal," he confirms. "But we got our own little Castle family." He looks down at his sleeping son, and coos. "We got Daddy Rick, and Mommy Kate," his fingers move to pull the blanket onto his son's shoulders.

"And little Grayson Robert Castle here, too."

She smiles and leans into him, kissing his shoulder blade. "Yeah, we got it pretty good."

He looks down at her, smiling. "Let's go get some sleep before he wakes up again."

She nods and walks out with him, looking over her shoulder at her sleeping son, until he shuts the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**~Woohoo, I remembered to update! Sorry for any grammatical errors. I'm on college time. Meaning nothing is perfect. But thank you for your continued support, and let me know what you think in the reviews!**

**-Alyssa~**

* * *

She hates leaving them while she goes to work.

He's bustling around the kitchen, making her coffee to-go and placing her bag on the counter to grab as she leaves.

She's upstairs, holding her almost year-old son as he babbles in baby talk and plays with a car on the ground. He giggles and laughs as he picks it up and throws it down over and over, and she can't help but smile has his excitement. Her arms are wrapped around his torso, keeping him close. She doesn't get to see him all hours of the day, like when he was first born. She's loves her job, and did miss the thrill she gets from working a case, but now that he's in her life, it's just another reason to look forward to coming home every night.

The baby throws the car a little too hard, and it bounces away in front of him. He stops babbling, and his face scrunches in confusion.

"Oopsie," she says. "Momma will get it."

The car is out of her reach, and as she motions to stand up, the baby throws a hand down on her thigh, the babbling beginning once again. She looks down at him, confused. "You don't want the car?"

But as she asks, she realizes her son is using her thigh, not as a punching bag, but as an anchor. Her mouth falls open wide as she watches him push himself up onto his feet. She quickly comes back into focus as her hands barely let go of him-enough to give him room to move on his own.

"Oh my god," she whispers, as her son begins to move his feet one by one towards the car. "Castle!" she exclaims. "Castle! Get the camera!"

The boy continues to take a couple slow, wobbly steps, before falling down on his bum, sighing, then crawling the rest of the way to his car, and starts to play once more.

She's still sitting, motionless, staring at her son, when he walks in, looking frazzled with a camera at the ready. "What?" he asks. "What happened? What's going on?"

She continues to look at her son. "He walked," she says quietly.

"What?"

"He _walked_, Castle," she says louder, turning to him. A smile starts to grow on her face. "He pushed himself up, and walked to his car. I-"

"No," he argues. "He couldn't have walked. I told him specifically that he can't take his first steps unless I am there to see it. Right, Grayson?" he asks, turning towards his son.

The boy is laughing at the car, and completely oblivious to what is being said.

"He just, knew!" she says. "He threw the car over there, and I was getting up, but he pushed up from my leg, and just…_walked._ Ha!" Her smile encompasses her entire face, and she lets out a laugh. "He walked!"

He looks down gloomy at his son. "He walked without me here. And we didn't even get it on camera. This sucks."

"Don't worry, Castle. I'm sure he'll do it again soon. He didn't get very far. Next time will be better anyway. And you will definitely get to see it." She looks down at her wrist and takes note of the time. "I gotta head to the precinct." She moves from sitting to all fours, and crawls to her son, smoothing his hair and kissing his head. "Bye bye, baby boy." The baby turns his head and looks up at her, his smiling making hers grow wider, and then returns to his toy.

She stands and walks over to him, kissing his cheek as she leaves the room. "Bye bye, big boy. Maybe he'll walk for you while I'm gone, huh?"

She turns down the hall, and he's left to his son. He walks over to where the boy is and sits beside him, looking at him intently. "I know you were just tryin' to impress your mom with that walking stuff, but you're saving the really good stuff for me, right? More stable walking? Talking? Can you say 'dada'? Please say 'dada'. Or at least say it before you say 'mama'."

His son continues to play, ignoring the statement his father says. He rolls his eyes, and draws the camera towards himself, readying the position.

"I'm ready when you are, champ."

* * *

She comes home from a long day at work, tossing her keys and bag on the counter next to the front door as she enters the loft. She sees him sitting on the couch squinting in pain, while their son claps red and blue blocks together, the "clank" sound echoing throughout the room.

"How long has he been doing that?"

He looks up at her. "On and off for the last hour. It comes in short bursts."

She sits on the couch next to him, leaning over for a quick greeting kiss. When she pulls back, he looks at her expectantly. "So, did you finish the case of the robbery gone wrong?"

She nods. "Got a full confession out of the guy today. The victim dealt to him a while back, stopped selling, and our guy got pissed." She moves her hand to play with the edges of his hair. "How'd your day go?"

"Pretty well, I think." He looks to their son. "Got some writing done while he napped. And he spent two hours playing under the kitchen table for god knows what reason. But he was happy, so I didn't try to figure out why. You like to confuse your parents, don't you Grayson? Sending us mixed signals."

The boy looks up at his name and smiles at his father. She laughs, and he rolls his eyes. "I'm taking that as a yes," he says.

Suddenly, the boy begins to move. Still facing his father, he lifts his hands slowly onto the edge of the couch, and begins to move upwards.

His parents mouths begin to widen.

"Castle…" she starts.

"Camera. Right. Uh…" he frantically looks around. "Crap. I left it in the kitchen. He was being cute at lunchtime ."

They continue to look at their son, who's now practically vertical. With one final thrust, he lifts himself from the ground, and his father lets out a gasp as the boy starts to shuffle his feet towards him, his hand hovering by the couch for guidance.

"Kate…he's walking."

"He's walking."

The boy, a smile still on his face, reaches his father, and stretches out his arms. His father laughs and lifts him up onto his lap. "Did you just walk, Grayson? Did you walk? I knew you were smart." He turns to her, a knowing look on his face. "I knew he was smart." He looks back to his son, lifting him into the iar and shaking him around, the baby giggling loudly in response. "You did it, buddy! Woohoo!"

"And you let Daddy see it," she adds, giving him a knowing look. He laughs in response, pride beaming from his features.

"You know what this calls for?" he says. "Celebratory take-out. I'm feeling Chinese. Let's do it."

She laughs at his ridiculous segue, but nods her head nonetheless. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll order it."

As she gets up and heads to the phone in the kitchen, she hears him call out to her. "Can you bring the camera in here while you're up? We've already missed him walking twice for the first time- I don't want to miss another thing."

She looks back at him, a wide smile on his face, their son resting on his chest and playing with the buttons on his shirt, looking content.

"Trust me Castle," she says. "There's plenty more to come."


End file.
